It's Not Fantasy
by MrsPotter1999
Summary: Muggle-Born Emma Henson begins Hogwarts not knowing anything about the magical world. So obviously she is curious when all the students are getting excited about a boy in her year, Harry Potter. They eventually meet in detention, and for the first time in her life Emma feels like she has a true friend, soon to be more than that. Apologies for the awful summary.


_**This is an introductory chapter so sorry if it's a bit short.**_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter**_

_**All reviews, whether negative or positive, are appreciated.**_

**Chapter 1**

"Emma!"

"Yeah?"

Her mother didn't reply as usual, which was seriously irritating. Sighing, she put her book to one side and went downstairs to see what she was needed for. Probably a chore of some sort. When she arrived in the living room, however, she was surprised to see that they had a visitor. A middle aged man was sitting on the sofa with a cup of tea in his hands. He was wearing a rather professional looking suit, which for some reason worried Emma. Her mother was seated in the armchair on the other side of the coffee table. She looked very pale and Emma noticed that she was holding her own tea with shaking hands, which only added to Emma's feeling of worry. She was beginning to wonder if a relative had died when the man spoke.

"You must be Emma," he said politely.

"Yes," she replied in a shaky voice.

"My name is Richard Frobisher. I have been having a conversation with your mum regarding your education for the next few years."

Well, that was unexpected. Emma took a moment to think about what he meant. After the holidays, it was planned that Emma would attend the local secondary school, which was all fair and well. She had definitely managed to secure a place, so what could be wrong?

"Erm, okay," she said after a while of frowning.

"You should sit down," her mother said, gesturing towards the armchair next to her, which she then sat down in. The man put his cup of tea down and stared at it intently for a minute. He looked as if he was trying to work out how to phrase his next sentence.

"Emma, your mother has already told me that you are planning to attend a local comprehensive school in September. However, I would like to offer you a place at a different school."

Her mind was then flooded with questions. A different school? All her friends were going to go to the same school as her, so she would be alone if she attended a different one. And why was he even offering her a place? It wasn't like she was incredibly clever or special in any way. She then wondered why a place couldn't have been offered to her by post. Why did this man have to come to her house? That wasn't usually how they did things. She really didn't want to go to a different school, but she decided she would talk to him about it anyway, and act as if she might consider.

"Which school?"

There was a pause. Her mother's hands were shaking so badly now that Emma had an urge to hold them still for her.

"The school is called Hogwarts. It is a school for people that have certain...qualities."

Again, she took a moment to analyse what he had just said. Hogwarts. What a peculiar name for a school, infact, the name was almost laughable. Instead of wondering what he meant by 'certain qualities', she decided to ask him.

"Qualities? What do you mean?"

There was a long pause. Emma looked at her mother, whose face was giving away that there was going to be some exciting news.

"You can do things, can't you? Things that other people may find to be a bit odd. Your mother has told me some stories about certain incidents at your primary school, which I'm sure you can remember."

Emma definitely knew which incidents he was talking about. A girl called Drew used to bully her at school, when Drew was making a particularly nasty comment about her glasses in the girls bathroom, one of the toilets exploded, spraying her with filthy water and causing her to run out screaming. The teachers were convinced that something was wrong with the plumbing, but Emma had always felt that it had been her fault. That wasn't the only strange thing that had happened around her, whenever she was feeling especially angry or scared, objects would smash, technology would fail, and each time she had the same impression that she was doing it.

"Yes," Emma said, smirking to herself.

"Well, those incidents weren't just coincidental. They happened for a reason, which is common for people like you at such a young age."

"People like me?"

Again, there was a silence, which was soon broken when her mother spoke softly.

"I think it's best if you just tell her, get it out of the way."

"Alright, then. Emma, you're a witch."


End file.
